


Appropriate workplace behaviours

by Guzmanasol



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Discussion of Abortion, Discussion of Adoption, Falling For Your Boss, M/M, Nora really did not want to have a kid and that is very clear, Other caps mentioned, handling shit like adults, potential power imbalances
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-02
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-06-01 04:00:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15134660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guzmanasol/pseuds/Guzmanasol
Summary: Turning up to training camp with a baby was unexpected.The falling in love with the nanny thing is cliche.Nicke has made his peace with both.





	Appropriate workplace behaviours

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [sunshinexbomb](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshinexbomb/pseuds/sunshinexbomb) in the [PuckingRare2018](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/PuckingRare2018) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> single dad nicky hires tom to be his nanny.

# Summer

 

 

            Nora won’t tell anyone who the baby’s father is, though she tells them that he wants nothing to do with her or the baby. She won’t tell them why he wants nothing to do with them. Or what, precisely, she is going to do with the baby after she gives birth. Nora is not particularly disturbed by the questions, though she gets annoyed after a week or two. Nora’s mother, however, is very disturbed by the lack of answers. And because some things never change, Nicke’s mother is disturbed by moster Ella’s distress. Nicke agrees to talk to Nora because if he doesn’t, he’ll have no peace all summer. His mother is all too happy to offer up Nora’s new phone number now that she’s back in Sweden and suggests a cafe that moster Ella doesn’t like for them to talk in peace.

                   

            “Is this the part where I apologize for ruining your summer vacation? I’m not sorry, but the sooner I apologize for my mother, the sooner you can ask me everything she wants to know and I can get her off my back,” Nora says after she gulps down half of her berry smoothie. Nicke doesn’t groan, but he does take a few sips of his coffee before responding. “Don’t apologize for others, especially when they, like you, aren’t actually sorry.”

 

            Nora toasts him with her smoothie. Moster Ella will not stop and she will not apologize for wanting information. Nora won’t offer any information and she will not yield. Nicke spares a moment to curse whichever Nordea executive had decided that Farbror Per should be transferred from Stockholm to Gävle when Nora and Nicke were four and five, respectively. It’s a familiar frustration, and as indicative of being home as the road signs being properly labelled with kilometers. It’s still a pain in the ass.

 

            “Regardless,” he finally says, “she wants to know who the father is, if there’s any possibility of you patching things up with the father, your thoughts on relocating to Sweden permanently, potential names, when she can organize a baby shower, and if you’ve been taking prenatal vitamins.”

 

            “Over my dead body, hell no, not even when I’m dead, I’m not keeping it so that’s not my problem, never, and only because if I don’t I can’t keep any food down. I think that was in order,” Nora tilts her head and mutters to herself as she runs through the order Nicke had given.

 

            “You’re fine,” Nicklas tells her, mentally picking through her answers to see if there are any he can give moster Ella verbatim or if he needs to spend the rest of his afternoon on this patio and find a way to share Nora’s decision without causing moster Ella’s long threatened heart attack to finally happen.

 

            “What, no comments about how heartless I am? How I should rearrange my entire fucking life for a fucking clump of cells that I missed the deadline to abort?”

 

            “Nora, cut it out. I know you, and so does your mother, even if she likes to hope you’ve changed your mind. We all know you’ve never wanted kids, which is why we’re so confused as how the fuck this happened. So how the fuck did the most passionately childfree person I know wind up pregnant?” It’s eaten at the back of Nicklas’ mind since he found out that his mother was serious, Nora Holmberg, yes the Nora Holmberg he grew up with next door, was almost 8 months pregnant and back from the Engineers without Borders site she’d been at for almost two years. Nora stares at him for a moment, eyes narrowed and brow furrowed angrily.

 

            “I screwed up the dates to replace my IUD, and funny thing—having sex when you think your birth control is good but it’s actually not? Can result in pregnancy, surprise surprise. So, between not realizing it for a few months because I didn’t have a fucking period on my IUD so not having one after sex didn’t throw up a red flag, trying to stabilize the site enough for me to leave, and the restrictions on when I could’ve had an abortion, that’s how the fuck I ended up pregnant.” Nora’s voice rose, only breaking when she had to actually refer to herself as pregnant.

 

            Nicke is out of his depth, unsure how to comfort Nora—or even if she wants comfort. They have never been as close as she was with Kristoffer, but there’s something to be said for history and honesty. He’ll just have to keep going and hope he doesn’t fuck up.

 

            “So you’ll put the baby up for adoption. Have you decided if you want a closed or open one?”, Nicklas can’t even imagine Nora raising this baby. Better to move to the only option left this late.

 

            “Closed. Unless….,” Nora trails off, eyes narrowing in concentration and not anger this time. “…You’ve finally decided to go after what you want?”

 

            Nicklas promptly chokes on his lukewarm coffee. Nora grins, her old delight at catching him off guard bubbling up, but she doesn’t play it off as a joke. She watches him compose himself, and Nicke has an uncomfortable reminder of the last time he’d been observed like that-- across the face off dot at Worlds, Alex’s grey eyes sharp above an unfamiliar red uniform.  

 

            “I’m a single, professional hockey player who plays abroad. I have a limited support system for most of the year, because most of the people I trust are running all over the North American continent with me, I spend the rest of the year bouncing between countries to see family and compete internationally, throughout the entire year there is a possibility that I could be traded or suddenly injured enough to be unable to care for myself, let alone a child—adding even more instability to an already unstable life, and no one sane would look at me and think that I would be the best choice for their kid.”  Nicke’s voice is calm, because Andreja in PR had drilled him with tough questions for years and if he can talk about a third straight ejection from playoffs at the hands of the fucking Penguins without committing murder, he can recite all of the concerns biological parents and adoption agencies have had in the past.

 

            “So you’re telling me you couldn’t find a good nanny in D.C.? That exposure to various cultures and countries would hurt a kid? That you wouldn’t bust your ass to help your kid adapt to a new city or to your unexpected retirement?,” Nora asks him, sarcastic and stubborn. “Because you’re forgetting to talk about the benefits. You are quite possibly the most loyal, loving idiot in the world, you have been preparing nurseries in D.C. and Gävle for years--- ahh, ah, shut up and let me finish dumbass—and you have wanted kids since you were sixteen and dating a god awful boy that you thought you’d marry and raise a family with. Even though you’re single now, you are still insanely ready to be a father, which is why you’ve been contacting adoption agencies—don’t think I didn’t recognize that half of that shit had to have come from some damn agency that has concerns because you’re single, gay, or both—and guess what? I’m not a fool, I know you’d be the best choice for this spawn. There will be an adoption, and it’s going to be up to you if it’s open and to you, or closed to some random weirdos in Stockholm.”

 

            “This is insane.” It’s all Nicke can say after Nora finishes, literally flushed and out of breath from her impassioned argument. She’d kept her voice to a whisper, amazingly, because Nicke is a professional hockey player in his hometown and it would be so easy for rumors to start if anyone who recognized him saw him having an argument about babies in public.

 

            “Think about it. It’s sudden, not insane. We’ve got about five weeks before this brat shows up, so take three weeks and think about it,” Nora tells him, voice as steady as when she’d taught him three weeks’ worth of trig in a night. She’s always been pragmatic.

 

            “Why do I only get three weeks to think if you’re due in five?” It’s a stupid thing to fixate on, but it’s small, manageable, the non-hockey way of taking it one shift at a time.

 

            “Because, when you inevitably come to your senses and decide to adopt this kid, your lawyers will need time to draft some agreements about me not ever taking your kid while still being accessible for medical information and all that. Plus, you’d have to start meeting with summer nannies here, and a nanny for the season back in D.C. Even with your name and money, that will still take some to time to pull off. Now, stop being a dick and help me figure out how we’re holding my mother off for the next three weeks while you realize I'm right.”

 

 

 

            Nicke thinks about it. Constantly. When he starts easing back onto the ice, when he’s lifting weights, when he’s filming sponsorship promo, when his family is celebrating Midsummer—no time is safe, nothing is distracting enough to banish the thoughts entirely. He starts dreaming again. These dreams are sharper, he remembers more of them then the old ones (the ones that had his former partners, or that began with an abrupt call from an agency—the ones he’s hated for the last few years, thwarted at every end).

 

_A baby monitor picking up babble, excusing himself away from dinner or a bonfire to go check on the little one, a faceless man laughing and waving him on._

 

_Family skate, bending down to support a toddler kicking their legs and trying to break free. Ovi laughing and threatening to steal the kid, replace Nicke as his center -- Carly and TJ giving conflicting advice for how to get the kid steady enough that Nicke will let go-- Drew and Corey from PR lurking back with the cameras and pulling faces so that at least baby Backy will smile._

 

            Nicke remembers those dreams best, but there are others (even a baby in a cup dream, god what is he thinking, getting one would be so difficult, getting both almost a miracle, both at the same time? He’d need a miracle and he’s a little short on those). He takes to avoiding the Holmberg house, tries to stay away from the apartment Nora is subletting while she’s in Sweden, and tries to convince himself not to be foolish.

 

            He doesn’t succeed.

 

 

# Fall

 

            Maja does not look pleased to be in Heathrow. For the sake of his eardrums, Nicke is grateful his daughter has stopped howling and sticks with disgruntled faces during their layover. The flight from Stockholm had been taxing, even with Lilly helping with lullabies and toys and pacifiers that did not work. Nicke must have used up all of his luck when he got her to agree to accompany them to D.C. and stay for a week to get them settled. The thought of flying back to D.C. without help had terrified him, and he’s stubbornly refusing to think about how the nanny he hires in D.C. might not be willing to fly back to Gavle with them at the end of the season—whenever that might be.

 

            “I think she’ll fall asleep once we’re in the air,” Lilly tells him confidently, lightly bouncing Maja in her arms to give Nicke a chance to eat before their flight. He doesn’t know what he’ll do without her after this week. Lilly has been with them for all of Maja’s life, and the idea of finding someone else to look after his daughter terrifies Nicke. Who could be as good as Lilly? (Nicke has no hope of finding someone better—Lilly’s the perfect mix of experience and education. She’s raised three kids of her own, holds a doctorate in early childhood education, teaches at the local university during the academic year, and likes to spend summers as a nanny to stay sharp. Nicke had asked her, once, what it would take to get her to relocate to D.C. and stay on as Maja’s nanny beyond the summer. Lilly had laughed in his face, but promised to help him screen the people sent over by the agency).

 

            “Will you be good for us on this flight my dear?,” Lilly asks, bouncing Maja gently, “will you sleep so that your father and I can also get some sleep? Someone has to be able to get our luggage and get us to the car my dear, and you’re not quite ready to do that. Soon, dear, soon—you’ll be running all over airports and making your father chase you. But not quite yet.”

 

            Nicke thinks he’s more comforted by Lilly’s chatter than Maja, who still looks vaguely disgruntled. He finishes his food and takes a moment to stretch. He’d spent too long in one position on their last flight, but Nicke hasn’t yet learned the art of not waking Maja when she falls asleep on him. It’s frustrating. He knows it’ll come, in time—most things do, after all. But he will readily admit that he’d prefer that time be sooner rather than later.

 

            Maja fusses for takeoff but promptly falls asleep once the fasten seatbelts light is off. Lilly pulls out the grey folders that Nicke has come to hate over the past week. Lilly tsks when she sees his face, and Nicke sighs. He’s rejected at least five nannies, brilliant people with credentials and experience and recommendations so glowing they could power Kettler. Lilly had poked and prodded, gotten him to write down an actual paper list of what the new nanny had to have (flexibility in schedule, at least two years infant experience), what he’d like but wouldn’t require (conversational Swedish, open to travelling with Nicke and Maja), and what he doesn’t give a shit about (almost everything else). She’d then talked him into working with an actual agency in D.C., one used to working with international families and challenging requirements. Nicke had grumbled writing the check, on the phone with the coordinator assigned to him, and all through the week Three Valleys spent finding a pool of candidates—but even he’ll admit that the new nannies all seem to be much closer to what he’s looking for then the ones he was finding when he searched on his own.

 

            “So we have three people that hit all requirements and most of the nice to haves,” Lilly says, brisk, “the agency has sent on bios, letters of recommendation, and a few samples of activities of they’ve done.”

           

            Nicke thinks Lilly would be right at home in the tape room, and promptly shoves that thought to the back of his mind. Lilly’s got a look like she knows his mind has wandered and she’s not impressed. He grabs the top folder, stuffed full of information about— _Alaïas Guzman,_ Nicke sees. Five years infant experience, coming from working with doctors and likes the flexible schedule and has travelled with families before, no Swedish but she’s fluent in English and Spanish and conversational in German. She sounds great, but Nicke isn’t going to pick the first option he sees. Not when this is for Maja.

 

            The second folder is similarly thick and full of almost clinical information about Logan Corrigan. Recently completed master’s in early childhood education with three years of infant experience, fluent in Swedish (daughter of expatriates, if Nicke had to guess, there was no mention of living abroad), open to but has never actually worked with anyone who needs the sort of flexible schedule that Nicke has to have. Logan stays in second place, because Nicke has a waking nightmare of her realizing a month into the season that having to keep up with such a schedule is not for her and quitting while Nicke is in Winnipeg. Realistically, he doubts anyone who got through the rigorous Three Valleys’ screening process would do that, but it’s enough that Logan stays in second place.

 

            Tom Wilson is the last file. Nicke idly looks through it—most of the same information, only varying in a few spots. Only a B.A. in early childhood education, but he’s conversational in Swedish and Nicke sees he’s worked with erratic schedules before. In fact, he realizes as he looks at the first recommendation letter, Tom has worked with hockey families—including the new coach of the Sarnia Sting, a Swedish coach who started coaching a juniors-level team in Malmö right around the time that Nicke made the move up to Brynäs.

 

            “We should interview Alaïas and Tom, see who Maja clicks with,” Nicke tells Lilly. He could be happy hiring either, but Maja is the one who will have to spend the most time with them, and it will be less awful for everyone if she at least likes whoever he has to leave her with.

 

            “You should call the agency once we’re through customs then, give them as much time as possible,” Lilly whispers, stroking Maja’s hair as she fusses in her sleep. Nicke nods. They’re cutting it close as it is, and he has a brief moment of panic at the thought that maybe both of them wouldn’t live up to their portfolios in person and he’d have to start all over again. But a quick glance at Maja reminds him why he isn’t going to settle. So either Tom or Alaïs will work out, or they won’t. He and Maja will figure something out.

 

 

# Winter

 

            Tom has mashed peas smeared on the collar of his shirt when Nicke gets back from practice and film. Maja looks entirely too pleased with herself, balanced on Tom’s hip as he runs a wash cloth under the faucet.

 

            “I get it, I get it, clearly the carrots or the beets are superior vegetables but that doesn’t mean that I need to wear the peas. Though your aim is getting better. Your papa is going to be proud.”

 

            “Peas are not pucks,” Nicke tells Tom, fighting to keep a straight face. Tom rolls his eyes and finishes wiping Maja’s face before handing her off to Nicke. She settles against his chest with a content sigh and Nicke has a moment of uncontrollable euphoria. Though that might be sleep deprivation he thinks as his arms twinge at Maja’s weight—the sleep regression he’d been warned about at her last check-up is here and walking with her is one of the few ways he can soothe her.

 

            “You’ll have her working with pucks soon enough. Besides, she needs to have a solid nutritional foundation to build that hand-eye coordination.”

           

            “True. Other than deciding that wearing vegetables was preferable to eating them, how was lunch?”

 

            “Lunch was fine. She did actually eat the squash and zucchini that we tried today. Her playdate with Leni went well—and Lauren tried to steal me away again. Miss Maja even went down for her morning nap without fussing today, which means she’ll probably be a monster when I try and put her down later,” Tom tells him as he tucks Maja’s dishes into the dishwasher.

 

            “I’m glad that Maja had fun with Leni. Though I wish Lauren would stop trying to hire you away,” Nicke admits, shifting Maja to rest more comfortably in his arms, “one of these days she’ll come up with an offer you can’t refuse. It would probably help if she was willing to help you move out, since your strength receded with your hairline.” Tom laughs at Nicke and grabs a dish towel to swat at his thigh, well away from Maja.

 

            “Oh fuc—fudge you. My hair and biceps are as good as they’ve ever been, bed frames are just heavy. And it’s not like you moved any of your own stuff into this apartment.”

           

            “Keep telling yourself that. And given how this city panics when I drop a weight, it’s better for everyone’s heath if I don’t do any excessive lifting,” Nicklas still occasionally gets ribbed by the beat reporters for fumbling a weight in the behind the scenes footage from a Caps Red Line video last year, and he has to admit he’s lazy enough to use that as a reason to not do shit like moving. “Your Swedish is getting better, you sound less like Bura.”

 

Tom snorts, but looks pleased. He’s fairly competitive, especially if he’s being compared to Andre—even if he does actually like Bura. Nicke will admit to being a little confused on how that friendship started, though he's familiar with the details. Tom and Andre had hit it off from the moment his countryman had come running through Nicklas’ door, looking for a place to hide from a sugar high Lucca and a pissed Carly (both his own damn fault, Nicke knows), and found Tom working with Maja on tummy time.

 

“Wow, someone is in a good mood. No jokes about me sounding like a country boy? You bench more than Ovi today or something?” Tom just grins as he leans back against the kitchen counter. Nicke promptly forgets about the peas on his collar when confronted with Tom’s arms straining soft cotton. He’s got damn good arms of his own, but something about Tom’s arms makes his just better. Maybe the veins—Nicke occasionally daydreams about tracing those veins with his tongue. And the hands. Nicke doesn’t normally care about someone’s hands off the ice but he’ll make an exception for Tom’s. If he’s honest, he’d make an exception for Tom’s everything.

 

“Or something.” Like hell is Nicke admitting that his good mood comes from getting home in time to get a few extra minutes to talk with Tom before his nap. He’s Tom’s boss and hitting on him would probably cement his place as shittiest boss ever. He yawns and curses his timing.

 

“Go take your nap. Maja and I have some independent play and some painting to get to, and you’re holding us up.” Tom pushes himself off the counter and steps into Nicke’s space to take Maja. The hand off feels as natural as a face off at this point, and Nicke snorts when he remembers the weeks where he felt absolutely terrified at the idea of letting someone else hold his baby because what if they realized he had no idea what he was doing and took her back? That hadn’t lasted long once he’d talked to Lilly, and he had gotten that same feeling from Tom in their interview.

 

“You and your schedule.”

 

“Oh please, you follow that schedule even more than I do. Something about Maja being a monster when you disrupt the routine,” Tom smirks at him and Nicke is so into him it hurts.

 

“She is, and I don’t see why I should pretend she isn’t,” Nicke tells him as he heads into the hall. Babies need routine, he’s learned the hard way. Tom follows with Maja, looking pensive. “Was there something you needed to talk to me about?”

 

“Sort of? Nothing urgent, but if you’ve got time tomorrow afternoon?”

 

“Of course.”

 

Nicke is good at compartmentalizing so he can sleep and play so he puts aside the look on Tom’s face as he naps and as he drives to the arena and when the puck drops against the Flyers. But on the way home, where he’ll find Maja asleep in her crib and Tom either asleep on the couch with NHLN muted on the TV or tucked away in his bedroom, he thinks about it. Well, if he wants to get technical, he broods about it. He can’t really think deeply about something he knows nothing about.

 

Even without knowing the details, it’s pretty easy to come to the conclusion that if he can fix whatever has Tom making faces like that, he will.

 

# Spring

 

 

            “Jay and Ashley?” Lauren asks, “seriously? I thought the major threat to snagging Tom was going to be Gina and John.”

 

            “I didn’t realize that so many of my teammates wanted to hire my nanny,” Nicke muses at the family skate front office decided to do before playoffs started in two days.

 

            “Former nanny, and what, you think qualified nannies who are willing to work around a hockey schedule, keep their mouth shut, and who are actually willing to drive with kids in this city grow on trees?,” Lauren asks as she ties Lila’s skates with a flourish, “there you go sweetheart. Make sure you’re careful with Leni, she needs help to stay on her skates.”

 

            “We’re in D.C. There are plenty of nannies who would do all of that,” Nicke protests as they all troop towards the ice.

 

            “Yes and because we’re in D.C. they get snapped up by diplomats and politicians. Tom was our best shot,” Lauren sighs.

 

            “So dramatic,” Nicke laughs.

            “Stop reminding me of all I’ve lost and go kiss your boyfriend.” With a shove, Lauren sends him towards the ice.

 

            Tom and Maja are chasing Andre around the ice. It’s adorable and Nicke does his best to hide his smile from the cameras floating around.

 

            “Papapapapapa,” Maja babbles at him as he skates up to them. Tom grins at him and straightens up. Nicke shifts Maja into his arms and kisses Tom hello. Andre pretends to retch and skates off to hide behind Carly.

           

            “I gotta admit, I like being here as your boyfriend a lot more than I liked being here as Maja’s nanny for the Classic,” and that smile on Tom’s face alone is worth the headache of hiring a new nanny and helping Tom move out. He’s right, Nicke knows, trying to date while he still worked for Nicke would’ve been a mess and at least working for Beags means that Tom is still on a close enough schedule to actually see Nicke (and Maja. Tom told him that Maja was both far cuter and a better snuggler than any of Beags’ kids and promptly swore Nicke to secrecy).

 

            “Can’t imagine why,” Nicklas deadpans. It’s worth it to make Tom laugh. It sets Maja off as well, because her new thing is if Tom likes it, she likes it. Nicke is just grateful Tom is willing to occasionally eat baby food and pretend it’s delicious.

 

            “Enough old man. I was promised skating and handholding, and so far I only got one of those.”

 

            “So demanding.” Nicke grabs Tom’s hand and shifts Maja onto his hip. He’s got his family and the ice. That’s more than enough for today.

**Author's Note:**

> \- apparently there is soon to be a third beagle kid and therefore i'm hype  
> \- i think the most unbelievable thing about this fic is that it's tom who recognizes his feelings and takes proactive action to be able to pursue said feelings first  
> \- tom had a few too many injuries in juniors. He went from potential draft pick to au pair in Sweden to college kid in the US to actual bona fide nanny.  
> \- Crosby seethes with jealous when Caps win the cup and Nicke has a baby of his own to put in there. Not relevant to the story but the visual is nice and I wanted to share that


End file.
